My father's hands

A Villanelle for Gaza

Though vanished now, I will always see,
My last breath myself as light ever expanding.
My father's fingers, his hands ever searching for me.
His head bowed - sifting and scrabbling desperately,
His vowed promise to find me by nightfall fading,
Though vanished now, I will always see,

His tears, his cries, calling  to me despairingly,
His doubts dust-clouded now ever encircling,
My father's fingers, his hands ever searching for me.

Yet I see there is nothing left - no hair strand of me,
Nor keffiyeh thread either - all is mist and missing.
Though vanished now, I will always see,

My father folded in upon himself completely,
Amidst the blackened earth given to the darkening -
My father's fingers, his hands always searching for me.

From further afar, at their hands - I see him leaving, 
Clasping my tinfoil bracelet melted weeping,
Though evaporated now, I will always see,
His fingers, his hands, my father ever searching for me.